Liam
by Pentwirler
Summary: Edited and updated. Who was Liam before he became Angelus? The 1st. Evil, Wolfram and Hart want him to believe that he was fated to be nothing but a sot & wastrel. What events in Liam's life made him a scoundrel? This AU, A/Other and B/A in dreams.
1. Chapter 1 The Birth

Eamon O'Connor

Liam by Pentwirler

This an AU story about Angel before he became Angelus. The First Evil, Wolfram and Hart wanted Angel to believe that he was destined to be nothing more than a drunk and a wastrel who would die from syphilis.

This is about Liam; his life before he was turned. A man is shaped by the events in his life, from the cradle on to the grave. This story starts with his parents and his relationship with his father. How the expectations of life in 18th century Ireland may have had an influence on his family and Liam. Throughout the story Liam will be seeking a mysterious blonde made with green eyes that he has dreamed about for years. Thus B/A in spirit

This is rated T, for some nudity mentioned in the first chapters, and the description of Liam's birth(if you are squeamish skip the first chapter). In his teen years will begin adult situations, language and content and definitely in his adult years. So, those chapters will be rated M.

All characters from BTVS and ATS are the property of Joss Whedon, and buddies. I am only using them for entertainment and not for profit.

Please review, and be honest, point out the flaws and make suggestions; how else will I improve.

Chapter 1 The Birth

May 20, 1727

Eamon O'Connor was a handsome, dark haired man, four and twenty in age, with stormy gray eyes. He was very worried about his lovely, young, wife Orla who was with child.

Of All the days to return home from their cousins' manor, it was the worst. The rain poured down drenching all who were not in the Carriage. The wind blew gusts, which whistled through the cracks, chilling the occupants. The road seemed more rutted than usual and one of the few trees that stood along the highway had fallen, blocking their road home. The driver had to take another road by way of Galway Town to seek lodging until the storm was over. The road was at times flooded and proceeding onward was slow.

No one had expected the storm. It had been a fine spring day. The weather had been nice for the pass fortnight. It being May and the flowers blooming, he thought they would have only sunny afternoons and the wet of foggy, soft days. He thought that the stormy cold of winter was finally over. Yet, while they journeyed home in the middle of a sunny day, the wind and torrential rain of a heavy storm came.

The rain was pounding on the carriage roof, while they slowly traveled down the country road. In the dim light of this dreary afternoon, Orla looked so beautiful with her large brown eyes and raven hair. They had been wed for not more than a year, and he loved her with his whole being. He was in awe that this beauty barely eighteen years old, who had stolen his heart three years before, had agreed to be his wife.

He had worried that her family would not accept their courtship, because he was old Norman English and only a second born son who would not gain a large inheritance. The O'Connor family had a fairly prosperous linen trade, with two fast merchant ships to go to ports that English law would allow and to bribe(which many knew was a price of business) or smuggle if needs required it (only a very privileged few knew this).

From Master O'Connor's silence, Orla knew he was brooding. She tried to lighten his mood breaking the silence.

"Eamon, it will not be so bad, at least we will have a warm dry place for the night and not be stuck in this rain the whole night. The men servants must be drenched and miserable. The horses need a rest also. It is best we go in to Galway."

"Orla" Master Connor, growled,

"I nay pleased with ye wife, your constant begging to see your silly cousins, because you're bored and want your cousin Una's company. You canna see the danger of yer being away from home. You have servants Orla, that would see to yer every whim and yet, you tormented me 'til I gave ya what ye wanted. I think you feel me father's house nae grand enough with the library and gardens. Mind you, we're lucky me brother let us live there, since me da passed on."

Orla feeling defensive pouted.

Her husband ranted on. "We could still be at me cottage in the village, if ye chose it, but nay it needs to be made larger, which wilna be soon because of wet weather."

"You fret too much, Eamon." Said Orla; beginning to feel angry herself.

"The babe is nay expected for a month or so. Even, Biddy and the midwife agree that the first bairns are late, some a fortnight or more."

At that moment, Biddy, a middle-aged and full figured woman who was sitting across from the couple, let out a loud snore. The couple smiled suppressing laughter at Orla's favorite maid. The woman slept so soundly, despite the pounding rain, the constant shaking of the coach on the rough road and their arguing.

Eamon took Orla's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as he caressed her knuckles with his thumb.

"Beloved let's not argue and I admit I did say with warm weather that a trip to the country would do na harm."

Connor O'Connor, his older brother had offered for the couple to stay at the O' Connor's manor, while work was done to expand the cottage Eamon owned near the village. It was being done by carpenters Orla's father had hired to make more room for the new family they hoped to have. It was his wedding present to the couple.

Yet, Orla was not happy, she was sick of being cooped up in the big house with nothing to do. She had been ordered by her sister in-law, Enya O'Connor, to take it easy while in her delicate condition. She was not allowed household duties; the servants were to pamper Orla for her health and the child she carried. Enya's grandaunt agreed and further stressed that she was to keep to the family rooms; that as a mother she would do respectful activities like reading to her young nieces, writing letters and embroidering baby clothes. She could take short walks in the gardens, when weather permitted, but no more hiking all over the countryside and wild pony rides.

Eamon thought that she might form a closer friendship with his sister in- law. Eamon sighed; he could not really blame her. Enya O'Connor could be so over bearing, she would try the patience of a saint. For his free spirited Orla, his family's estate felt like a prison. Everyone was just anxious because this was his wife's first child.

Eamon's wife snuggled close to him and he placed an arm around her shoulders, making her comfortable against his side. They fell into an easy silence listening to the rain, the coachmen, and the horses.

After a spell, the rain seemed to have eased to a gentle drizzle. The coach stopped so that Orla could see her personal needs attended to in privacy. Eamon had left the carriage to stretch his legs and talk to the men servants. Orla spoke to Biddy while finishing with the chamber pot.

"Biddy is the bairn to press down on me so. I feel like I need the gardener's wheel barrel to lesson the burden."

Biddy covered her mouth as she chortled with laughter and blushed so red she almost matched the strawberry red of her hair.

"Oh, Orla that would be quite a sight and yes, when the babe drops it will press the most, with its wee head pointing downwards."

Orla gave a little groan sounding fatigued.

"I hope I can bear it, because it already feels uncomfortable and me back at times aches."

Biddy suddenly became concerned and asked.

"How bad is the ache and is there pain in yer belly, like a cramp?"

"Do not worry, Biddy. It does na hurt, just a twinge in me back." Orla replied tiredly.

Biddy was relieved after this answer and said, "'tis nothing pet. Yer might have many little aches before it is truly yer time."

"Biddy let us not tell Eamon, he would fret so and be horrible company 'til we arrive at the O'Connor manor."

"Nay, mum, I wilna say." Biddy reassured her.

A knock was heard on the carriage door and Eamon yelled. "It is starting to rain hard again, may I come in?"

Biddy, open the door letting Eamon in as she handed the chamber pot to one of the servants to be dumped. After everyone was settled, the carriage continued on the road. Eamon had a dark scowl and was brooding again.

"We will be fine Eamon. Biddy gave the men some of the cheese, bread and preserves, that Una had the servants prepared for our trip and there is still plenty left if we are hungry." Orla told her husband.

"It is all we will have fer awhile before we can rest and dine. I do nay ken where we will find lodging that late. Seamus, says wilna be in Galway until long after dark." Eamon angrily informed the women.

Orla let out a little yawn knowing this would get Eamon's thoughts away from their current troubles.

"I feel so tired. Stop fretting and hold me Eamon while I nap."

Biddy notice while nodding off herself, that despite Master O'Connor's irritated groan, he still placed his arm lovingly around his wife. He held her gently against his side as Orla laid her head upon his chest, eventually falling asleep.

Biddy did not know what woke her first the sound of the horses' hooves on cobblestones of a street or the moans of distress from her mistress and then realized it was Master O'Connor begging her to wake.

"Biddy, please see to Orla, she's in pain and I donna ken what to do."

"Master Eamon, may I ask how long Orla has been like this?" She asked trying not to sound alarmed.

He looked at his wife and with an anxious voice, he responded.

"Nay long, she keeps complaining of her back aching, I tried rubbing her back, but she ..."

"EAMON!" Yelled Orla, "I am here and can speak for me self."

"Biddy, my back just hurts. I will be better when we leave this coach and I can rest in a warm bed."

Eamon immediately banged on the roof of the coach. Outside was heard the yelled commands as the horses slowed and the carriage stopped. Promptly, the footman Pedar McCoole was at the door.

"What tis it, sir?" asked the young man.

"Tell Seamus, we need to get the Mistress to shelter, she is in pain and needs rest quickly, boy!" yelled Eamon over the driving rain.

As soon as the door was shut, there was shouting, a snap of a whip and the coach lurched off at an alarming speed.

"AAAAh!" Moaned Orla.

"Oh! Sir this speed is causing too much shaking, I think this nay good!" Bidddy exclaimed.

All three occupants were thrown to the side of the compartment when the coach careened around a corner, there was a sudden loud crack of splintering wood and the carriage crashed onto one side and stopped.

Horses and men were screaming. The coach had broken an axel going around at such speed and now lay on its side in what appeared to be an alleyway.

Eamon realized he had been knocked out for a few minutes and was aware that he had Orla still in his arms. She was moaning with more intensity.

"Beloved are ye hurt." He asked.

"I donna ken Eamon, me back hurts so bad and me stomach feels like it is going to fall out of me body." She suddenly arched and cried.

"AAAAh .. it hurts, Aaaah, Oh! Mother Mary it hurts!"

Someone with an oil lamp yanked open the side door that now was where the ceiling of the coach should be.

"Hurry we hae injured here. Hurry there be ladies and one looks to … Oh! Father in Heaven preserve us! She is wi child. Hurry boyos!"

In the lamplight, Eamon could see that Biddy was out cold and had a bloody gash across her temple. He tried to get his arm under his wife's legs, but notice that her skirts were wet. He pulled back his hand and in the light of the stranger's lamp, he could see blood. For the first time in his life, the sight made him feel like fainting, because it was his love's blood. Fear for her and his unborn child, he started slapping Biddy to wake her up; hopping the woman was not too hurt to help.

"Biddy wake, Biddy wake! Orla I think is having the baby. Please, Biddy wake up! She is bleeding, I donna want to lose her and my babe."

Biddy's eyes started to flutter as she gained consciousness and began to groan.

"Oh me head! What is wrong Orla, where ya hurt lass?"

Biddy carefully sat up wiping the blood that trickled from her head wound from her eyes.

"Biddy, it hurts…it feels…aaaah!... like me body is trying to split open and me stomach is going to fall out." sobbed her mistress.

"Tis will pass chile, Biddy is here we will take good care of ya, just close your eyes and breath trough the pain." Said Biddy, as she took the young woman's hand.

Biddy looked at Eamon and mouthed in silent whisper "Midwife, now."

He pointed up to make her aware of there present circumstances, and the unlikelihood of them to have a midwife soon.

She whispered to O'Connor, "Eamon you will have to hold up her skirts while I see how far along it is and pray; The Father, Mother Mary, Jesus and all the saints are watching over us."

Eamon shouted at the stranger with the lamp. "Hey, man at the door up there, please lend me yer lamp, so we can see if me wife is more seriously injured."

The man nodded as he handed down the oil lamp.

"I will a close the door, sir."

O'Connor held the skirts out of Biddy's way and both gasped at the large dark show of blood in between the legs of her breeches all the way down to her knees and soaking her petticoats under her.

Biddy saw the shocked look on Eamon's face and quickly gave what reassurance that she could.

"Don't be to alarmed Eamon, all this is not blood, but it is the breaking of her waters, which means the bairn is ready to be born. She may have some time it could be within the hour or not till mornin'."

He became alarmed when his wife suddenly screamed out in pain.

Biddy, quickly with her penknife tore the inner seam in the breeches until she had Orla's privates exposed. Eamon in embarrassment threw his wife's skirts over the head and shoulders of Biddy.

"What are ye doin' ya fool! I canna see, I need the light. Close yer eyes if yer to ashamed to see your babe born." Forgetting herself and rebuking the young man. "Men!"

To his credit, Eamon did try to see, but when dark viscous blood oozed out of his wife's quim as a large fist size bulge began to emerge, it was too much.

Orla screamed again as she arched up.

"Oh! God help me!" she cried.

"Eamon," Biddy ordered, "Get her in sittin' position and hold her so her bum is beyond the edge of the seat, so the babe can drop down on the linens I've placed in a basket between her feet."

To her surprise, the young man was moving his wife forward while holding squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

"Open yer eyes, sir! Ya canna do this by touch!"

Eamon was relieved that Orla's new position with him holding her from behind did not give him such an obvious look at what was causing him such queasiness.

"that tis it, sir." Said Biddy.

AAAAh! Yelled Orla, "It hurts and I hate ya Eamon for doin this ta me."

"Orla, hush child, yer going to feel so bad later if ya say what ya donna mean." Chided Biddy.

"Eamon, it is just the pain of birthing making her talk so."

"Orla, you love Eamon don't you?" Biddy asked with a motherly voice.

"Aye." sobbed Orla. "I love you Eamon, I just want a stop hurting."

"Orla, your babe's head is free and what I can tell there is nothing to keep you from birthing this wee one with the next push. When you feel the pain in your belly come take a few deep breaths and push."

At that, moment a commotion was heard outside and the night watchman that had brought the oil lamp, banged on the door.

"Sir, we've come to git ya out."

"Nay, not now, me wife is having me bairn. We canna be moved yet."

Shouted O'Connor through the door.

"Oh! Sir ya nay want to have yer chile born here. It is accursed. This is Sinner's Alley! It is where whores, thieves and murderers frequent.

Just last night a lad was robbed and murdered, here." Said the watchman."

Eamon looked at Biddy with worry in his eyes.

She shook her head, " It canna be helped …"

And at that instant Orla, blew out hard twice and groaned as she pushed and a baby boy slid into the waiting hands of the nurse maid and lusty wail was heard above the din in the alley and the rain.

Eamon looked at his son and tears came to his eyes, "Micheal Liam O'Connor, me sweet boy, welcome to the world Liam, me son."


	2. Chapter 2

Liam by Pentwirler

**Note to readers: **I am new at this and I probably wrote (as one reader pointed out) too much information on Liam's parents. I wondered about that, but decided to leave it because, in Jossverse there is so little story about them and why Liam was at odds with his parents. I thought some back-story would help with the characters and future chapters. If enough of you think this too much, I will edit it. I need the feedback to know if I get too wordy, after all this is fan fiction, not a novel.

Chapter 2 The Mother's Son

May 1, 1733

It was a lovely day in May, the sun was shining, and there was a light sea breeze that carried the scent of wild flowers. Little Liam was walking to Galway Town with Pedar McCoole, his hero.

Pedar had been sixteen at the time when Liam was born. He had rescued the minutes old newborn from the wreckage of the carriage, in the driving rain while Liam's father carried his mother into the nearby tavern. Pedar said if he had not been quick on his feet, they both would have been trample to death by a panicking horse. Therefore, in Liam's eyes, Pedar had saved his life.

For Pedar it had been an eventful few days almost six years ago. The tavern was not the best of accommodations for the likes of Nursemaid Biddy and the mistress; but they had no choice under the circumstances. The mistress could not go to another inn and had to rest until she could return home. He remembers the Master getting drunk, and taking a separate room. After that, Pedar did not remember much except getting drunk with a buxom whore who took his virginity and his money.

Pedar smiled down at the handsome little, five-year-old lad. He looked like a very young Master Eamon O'Connor, with the beauty of his mother and her expressive dark brown eyes to refine his cherubic face. He was mildly impressed with the boy's stamina.

They had been walking for miles and the child had been running around Pedar like a planet orbiting the sun; asking numerous questions about plants, rocks, the clouds, who made the road and how long before they got to the docks. The boy only stopped his queries, when the servant repeatedly, begged ignorance and that only God knows. Not once had Liam accepted the offer, to ride on the servant's shoulders.

Pedar chuckled a little at how this insatiably inquisitive high-spirited boy could bring the whole household to a standstill with one of his escapades. Just the other day, Liam had discovered that silver could leave a mark on paper. The boy had taken a silver fork, bending all the tines but one; creating a drawing instrument with which he had drawn a good likeness of the cook's cat on some papers he found in the Master's study.

Liam's father was furious. He yelled about the spoiled brat ruining good silver, and destroying a business letter that he would have to rewrite. The lad had disappeared for two hours, while the staff looked for him. His mother meanwhile, calmed his father down, pointing out how talented their son was.

Pedar remembered what Master Eamon O'Connor said.

"Aye, Orla, he is talented, but he is an Irish merchant's son. He wilna be a gentrified English fool who paints all day and is waited on hand and foot."

Pedar sighed; he knew soon that his young master would learn that there were limits to dreams even for a merchant's son and especially for an Irishman.

Today, the O'Connor brothers were expecting one of their ships to come to port. Liam was looking forward to seeing the ship. He wanted to meet the sailors and see what cargo from far away lands they had brought. Pedar was to show him around to begin to get him acquainted with the family business, while his father and uncle settled accounts with the captain.

The lad was very proud of himself today. He was going to spend the day with his father and uncle. He was wearing his first pair of pantaloons; he looked like a miniature sailor in the fashionable boys' suit and he wanted his father to see him. Biddy said he would no longer wear the wool and linen dresses of babies that he was becoming a big boy, now. He was about to turn six years old!

Pedar notice that the boy slightly favored his right foot and suspected that his new shoes had made a blister. He knew the boy was not going to say anything about it.

"Liam, me boyo, I think yer ma is going to be plenty mad at me if you get bloody sore feet. So for me sake, ride on me shoulders, please." Pedar asked the lad.

The boy frowned looking down and then nodded.

"I will Pedar, only to where the docks begin. I will na have you carry me in front of me father."

Pedar smiled as he picked up the boy and placed him on his shoulders and said, "Fair enough, young Liam, and now we can get there faster. I donna want to miss the prettiest, lovely ladies that stroll by the docks in the Afternoon."

"Aah! You like girls?" Liam said in a disgusted voice, "I think they are stupid, silly, a nuisance and a bother."

"Aye, they can be that," laughed the twenty-two year old. "they also have many charming qualities that you will learn a man canna live wi' out."

"I can live without me silly goose cousins; they used to dress me up as a baby until I said I would break their dolls. Now they want to dress me up as a prince or knight, but they will na let me do sword fighting. They want me to rescue them from monsters which not so bad if it tis a fire breathing dragon, but the kissing sickens me."

Pedar stopped walking overcome with laughter. When he caught his breath, he asked between chuckles why Liam had to kiss his cousins.

Liam with indignation explained.

"Me cousins say tis the only way to break the evil spell that the monsters put on them. I think tis just a trick so they can kiss a boy. I hate being the only boy. I have nay use far me cousins and I wish they were all boys, except for Tara because she will play pirates with me and she taught me how to play marbles."

"Tara is a good hearted soul," Pedar said agreeing with the boy.

"I ken that it is not easy being the only boy. I will ask your father if I may take you fishing with me and maybe teach yaw to swim. Would like that Master Liam?"

"Aye" Said Liam, "I would like that very much."

As they came in to town, Liam O'Connor's curiosity was peaked. He saw many people in dirty, clothes that looked more like rags. They were so thin, and some children were eating grass.

"Who are those people? What is wrong wi them that they wear dirty rags and eat grass." Liam asked in a terrified whisper.

"They are poor people, beggars, Lad. They have na money or food. They eat the grass 'cause their starving." Pedar whispered back.

"Tis not right." Liam whispered with horror in his voice. "Who would do such a thing to folk and why?"

"Aye, tis nay right!" Pedar replied in an angry whisper. "It tis the English that dare do this! The bloody damn English!"

The boy was uncharacteristically silent while they walked through the town.

Liam looked at the run-down buildings, shops with people (that looked no better off than the beggars did), bartering with shopkeepers. He saw boys stealing pies from a street vender. He heard the shouts of British soldiers with swords drawn arresting some men for being drunk and fighting. He noticed in windows women in brightly colored, gaudy, gowns with lots paint on their faces, calling to Pedar and blowing him kisses. Pedar just waved as he continued on.

Soon they arrived at the docks and Pedar lowered Liam to the ground.

"How is yer foot?" Pedar asked the lad.

"Tis worse," Liam sighed, "I think the blister swelled."

Pedar took his wig off and removed a small wad of lambs wool from the underside. He placed his powdered wig back on his head; knelt down as he took the boys foot and stuffed the very soft wool in his shoe padding the blister.

"How tis that feel, Master Liam?" Pedar inquired.

"Tis better, Pedar. Thank you!" Liam replied a little surprised.

"Now, let us go find yer ship and yer Da!"

Pedar quickly walked down the wooden walkway as he looked for the ship called the Golden Victory anchored at the pier. Liam ran and skipped along by his side. The young man slowed his pace and grabbed the boy's hand, when he saw his master and his brother in a heated discussion.

As they approached both men looked their way. Pedar thought it was odd that Master Eamon O'Connor, the younger of the two merchants seem older. He seemed to worry more, did not smile much and had fits of melancholy. The servant also knew that underneath the wig, Master Eamon's thick Chestnut brown hair was beginning to prematurely gray.

Connor O' Connor, on the other hand was always in good cheer, with a quick smile and a laugh. He still had a rugged handsome face with piercing black eyes, a full head of dark hair with not one gray, despite the fact that he was seven years senior to his brother.

"Welcome! Welcome!" Liam's Uncle Connor greeted as he took off his hat in a sweeping bow, before coming down on one knee so he could embrace the child.

"Who say we have here? A dapper dandy with his new suit of very fine cloth?"

"Nay, I say he is wearing a seaman's pantaloons. He must be about to go to sea and sail the seven seas!"

"Nay, tis just me, Liam." The lad declared, while giggling at his uncle's antics and looking up at his father.

His father looked down on him smiling and nodded as he said, "You look handsome and proper, my son."

Liam overjoyed by his father's approval ran out of his uncle's arms to his father hugging the tall man's legs. Eamon pulled his son away and held him at arms length.

"Liam, you are not a babe. You are growing into a young man and you need to greet others in public, with a tipping of your hat and a bowing of your head."

Eamon demonstrated to his boy. "And when you greet a close associate, client, gentleman, or other peer you have business with; you shake hands."

The young boy nodded, swallowed the pain of hurt and disappointment; puzzled as to why his father spoke more like an Englishman.

"But, Uncle hugged…" Liam was about to question, remembering the joy of a few moments before.

"Only has silly daughters" Connor interrupted saving his nephew further grief.

"So, I forget meself sometimes how to be proper in public. A man must be sedate and not foolish, so that the man and his word are respected."

He explained, while giving his brother a hard look over the boy's head.

"Oh, I see" Said the boy not quite understanding what was being said, but comforted by how important it sounded.

"Da, may Pedar and I go see the Golden Victory" Liam asked all of sudden excited about going aboard the ship.

"Sorry, son, not today." Eamon said as he then looked at Pedar.

"Soldiers went aboard the Victory, tis mornin' and we heard nay word of captain Smith." Master Eamon announced to his servant.

The young man paled, for he was one of the few servants that knew that the O' Connor brothers smuggled goods to and from other ports to get around the penal laws that had impoverished so many in Ireland. He now understood why they had been in such a heated discussion when he first arrived with Liam.

"It may not be that dire yet. We ken that there have been na arrests and nay soldiers have come to talk to us. Therefore, we wait on the good captain. I think it might be a good time to have an early supper. Maggie said as we passed the inn that she was making oyster stew, with bacon and lots of potatoes." Liam's father suggested.

"Aye, I like her stew wi the bits of seaweed too." Liam exclaimed noting that his stomach growled at the mention of food.

"So, be it. Let's have an early supper." Uncle Connor agreed as they walked down the docks toward Maggie's Inn.

To be continued.

**Note: I know this is long and some of you want may be more action and less story, but I have to write as my muse dictates and explain what world Angel grew up in. P l e a s e REVIEW! I need to know that some like this.**


	3. Chapter 2 continued

Liam by Pentwirler

Chapter 2 continued.

After Liam had eaten his fill of stew and oat bread, Maggie had brought him a cup of fresh milk from her cow, sweetened with a little honey. The milk was still warm and was quite a treat for Liam, but it soon made him sleepy. While his father and uncle were discussing business with Pedar, he had quietly slipped away from the table to join Salty the large Irish wolfhound, who was napping by the grand fireplace in The Sea Hookers Inn. Liam dozed lightly, his pillow the hound that belonged to Maggie's sons.

The Boy heard snatches of the Men's conversation. Only Maggie's eldest son Kevin was in the room. The burly Young man was standing guard at the door, so the O'Connors could talk privately of business with Pedar.

About that time, Kevin let three well-dressed men in. Liam recognized two of the men as Masters Lynch, and Burke; they were old Norman English, heads of two of the fourteen tribes of Galway.

The Man (Liam did not know) took off his hat and nodded to the O'Connor brothers in greeting.

"Good day to ya Connor and Eamon. I thought ya might be here with Captain Smith being detained," He said as he and his comrades stood at the other side of table from the O' Connors.

Uncle Connor and Liam's father stood up with smiles on there faces each greeted the stranger with a hug and a back slap.

Eamon O'Connor nodded to the other gentlemen and shook their hands.

"Good day to ya gentlemen and Cousin Owen I have not seen you since ya left for Dublin, five years ago. Please, Men join us."

"Aye, it has been awhile and the business is good. I am pleased that yer here, cousins. I wagered a gold guinea to Master Lynch that the O'Connors would be filling their stomachs, not getting drunk over the new Revenue Officer's interest in the Captain."

Master Lynch sighed and with a smile handed Cousin Owen two gold guineas.

"Master Ffrench, here's your payment and I should never wager with ya. I was convinced that these men would be shaking in their boots over the diligence of the new Revenue man."

Liam's father laughed and said.

"It is Maggie's cooking that brings us here, and donna worry about the captain, he is as sly as a fox and as slippery as an eel. He will come; I am sure with a tale how he got out of this one."

All the men laughed at the thought of the tall stories Captain Smith would conjure about misadventures and grand escapes.

Maggie came with tankards of ale for all the men. Liam snuggled with Salty, falling deeper into sleep and dreaming of a tiny, blonde headed girl running through a field picking wildflowers.

"Hey, wake up boy, let me see ya?" Said, a male voice. Liam sleepily opened his eyes and saw the stranger his father had called his cousin Owen.

Master Ffrench had gently shaken the lad awake from his nap. It was much later and Liam noticed that there were now more people in the dinning hall of the inn, but Pedar was gone. He suddenly sat up and blinked his eyes.

"Where be Pedar?" Inquired the boy worried that Pedar had left him behind.

"Your not gonna say good evenin' to yer Cousin Owen?" Teased Owen Ffrench in mock grief.

Eamon O'Connor walked over with a Tankard in his hand. His eyes seemed brighter, and his cheeks red.

"What tis this Liam? Ya forget yer manners and nay greet the man?" Questioned his father.

"Eamon, I just woke the lad from a dream. He is bound to forget. I donna want his first memory of me, to be scolding about forgotten manners." Owen French said to spare the boy a chastisement.

"Hello, Liam. I am yer cousin on your mother's side. I hae not seen you since you were a wee babe. Let me look at ya?"

Liam rubbed his eyes and stood up, hoping to show his father that he remembered what his father had told him on the docks; he offered the man his hand to shake.

"Good evenin' to ya, sir," Said Liam as he furtively looked up at his father.

Eamon did not smile, but did nod at his son with approval.

"Good evenin' to ya, Master Liam. Now look at ya, all grown-up and formal-like," laughed Owen.

"Ya almost six years old, Lad?"

Liam nodded feeling proud. "Aye, me birthday is this month, the 20th of May."

"Oh, that soon?" exclaimed Owen with exaggerated surprise.

"Eamon, he is a fine young lad. He looks like you with Orla's beauty stamped on top," Observed Owen.

Eamon chuckled and said, "Owen, he is my son in temper and moods, but he does resemble his mother in so many ways too. He has his mother's flights of fancy, ability to charm and artistic talents too. Liam drew a nice sketch of the cook's cat on the back of the letter for Master Samuel Joyce."

Owen Laughed and heartily declared "Eamon send it to him with a note of the circumstances of the illustration. Samuel will be delighted."

Eamon looked down at Liam now with such an easy relaxed smile. The little boy felt a little puzzled by the change in his father, but was so glad to see his father look happy that he forgot his need to know where Pedar was.

Eamon asked, "Ya want to meet Ol' Captain Smith?"

"Aye, I do, sir." The boy said gazing up at his father.

"Come son, let us join the others."

Eamon picked up the boy and sat down next to a flamboyantly dressed and muscular gray-haired man with a serving maid on his lap.

"Captain Smith, I like ya ta meet me son. Liam" Said Eamon.

"Well, hello young lad! I see you dressed to go ta sea. " The captain said heartily shaking the boy's hand.

"I wanna go when I'm bigger" Liam replied enthusiastically.

"Ha-Ha, every boy does and if I need a cabin boy, I will let you know." The man chuckled.

"Eamon, he's a fine lad." Said the captain smiling as the woman on his lap began to feed him grapes.

Eamon, nodded at the captain and turned as one of Maggie's son Sean handed him a note.

He quickly read it and nodded at the young man who immediately left. Eamon gave the note to his brother and they began talking with others about business. The captain seemed to be preoccupied with the wench in his lap.

Liam was sitting between the captain and his father, feeling ignored. He looked around the dining hall and noticed there were now more men at the table. Groups of people were sitting at other tables in the dining hall. Some men he recognized as men that worked around the village. There were widows in black, conversing in a corner. A couple of serving girls were kissing men in sailor's garb, while a man played a fiddle. Many adult faces looked rosy, their eyes bright like his father's and the smell of Ale was strong. It looked like people were there to socialize and talk with friends, but to the boy it felt like all were gathered because of business with his father and uncle. Liam saw he was the only child in the room.

Almost all the people there seemed intent on the discussion at his father and uncle's table.

Those around the O'Connors were complaining of the problems with English law that did not allow Ireland to export sheep, woolen goods, cattle, pigs or almost anything Irish made or grown to any port in the English Empire and yet, they were forbidden to trade with other foreign powers. It was becoming impossible for many to make a living.

Master Burke commented on the plight of Ireland.

"England punishes Ireland for past rebellions with a stranglehold about her neck and forgets the agreement in Limerick. Most of Ireland is owned by the English. Yet, England is jealous of what little we have and complains that its own poor are destitute not because of war, poor land management by the gentry and decisions by Parliament, but because of the Irish.

Connor nodded in agreement and said,

"Whenever, we find a trade that has a chance of being legitimate, they forbid it. Aye, mark me words it may not be long before they take away our linen trade, because now we are making a profit and beginnin' to give hope to some poor Irish farmers and weavers."

At this point Master Ffrench interrupted the conversation.

"Gentlemen, enough politics and let us plot how to corrupt the new Revenue Officer. Capt'n Smith, I am sure you have a tale to tell and can give a report of the man's corruptibility."

The flamboyantly dressed man next to Liam, gently nudge the wench off his lap and stood with tankard in hand.

"Gentlemen, first I wish to remind you that I am an Englishman and I will not tolerate this Jacobite talk." Captain Smith announced sonorously with a roll of his eyes as though he was greatly insulted.

One of the sailors chortled and rhetorically asked,

"Uncle Joe Smith, yer English? Me ass! You' re Welsh!"

"Only on my father's, mother's side."

"I thought you were Irish?" yelled another.

"No, that is on my mother's side."

Uncle Connor joining the fun said, "I thought she was an Indian princess?"

"That is mistaken; the princess is one of many wives I married or a harlot I'm not sure. I think I was too drunk to remember if I had a wedding."

Many laughed at this.

Eamon asked in a business like tone,

"Captain Smith does the Revenue Officer have any suspicions of our cargo."

The captain took a draught from his cup and proceeded more seriously.

"Nay, he thinks you're honest businessmen, he suspects the crew and me."

The captain paused, looking at the faces of all who listened.

"You see sirs; your new Revenue officer seems to be concerned about how English the crew is aboard the Golden Victory. Now you know the law. I said every one of the crew has an English father and is Protestant. How could he question our loyalty? I did nay tell that they had Irish mothers and many were raised by Jacobites."

Everyone burst out with laughter.

"Master Wellington is his name and he is young, naive and eager to make an impression. Right now, he is a nuisance. Give him some time to feel the loneliness of his nightly patrols and the futility of his post. He has to do the thankless job of guarding a hundred miles of coastline. He must inspect all those itty-bitty islands, hidden little coves and caves at night with just a few English soldiers to aid him against all you wild lawless Irish smugglers for a pittance of a salary…OF COURSE HE IS CORRUPTIBLE. "

More hearty laughs and guffaws along with leg slaps.

Eamon O'Connor stood and everyone became quiet.

"He may be corruptible, but such a man will also betray for the right price or punishment. We must continue our tactics of leading him on wild goose chases and keeping him away from our business at night. He is to believe that we have a marginally profitable linen trade and most of what we sell is provisions for English ships.

We will not let any into this operation that is not family or clan. All here know we treat you and yours fairly. We are unified by blood, and we will nay use graft so close to home. We will nay take a chance on the safety of all, when you risk so much. We will not even for easier profit."

People voiced their agreement and nodding their heads, because they knew the O'connors were true to their word. All that were clan looked after one another.

Captain Smith said with a smile, "Master Eamon it is Beltane Night and I think we need more bonfires this year."

"That is an excellent idea, captain. We will have Master Wellington and his men worry about signal fires, and the fishermen's hookers will take the goods right from under their noses."

Sean entered into the inn and exclaimed partly out of breath. "Officer Wellington is coming! I overheard that he is bringing a soldiers with him."

Eamon commanded, "Let's move men below, God speed and good luck everyone."

Kevin lifted a large flagstone and slid it away revealing a hidden staircase below. The village men quickly descended follow by Connor, Owen, Masters Lynch and Burke. The sailors moved to other tables and more wenches from the upstairs rooms joined them. Two more musicians with a drum and a flute made lively music with the fiddler. Liam's father and the captain suddenly were in serious discussion over a ledger that had not been on the table before. Liam was astounded by how fast the dinning hall had been vacated and people had changed what they were doing. One of the widows came to Liam. She was the woman everyone called 'Granny Malone'.

"Come yer da needs you to go wi' us into Maggie's parlor. We will have tea till the nasty Englishmen are gone." She said with a kind face and gentle voice.

Liam looked up at his father and Eamon nodded, "Go quickly, son."

The boy climbed down from the bench and followed Granny Malone.

As they walked in to the hallway that led to the parlor, Liam fearfully whispered to the widow, "What will the English do? Why is Da not hiding wi' Uncle Connor?"

"Dona worry Lad. The Revenue man will see sailors drinking, wenches dancing and your da goin' over accounts with the captain. He will see nothing out of the ordinary and if he comes in the parlor, just say I am yer granny, okay?" She reassured him.

He gave her a timid smile and nodded okay.

The boy jumped when he heard Salty barking as English voices were heard greeting Captain Smith and Master O'Connor, Sean loudly scolding the dog while he dragged the dog into the hall following Liam and the Widow Malone.

The fifteen-year old youth look at Liam with a smile and a wink as they entered the parlor.

Sean, don't bring that cursed beast in my parlor, Salty will break my china wi' one sweep of his tail" Maggie Complained. "Why don't ya boys go outside and play wi' Salty?"

Liam gamboled after Sean and the hound as they ran out the back, annoying the cow enough to make her moo at them. Sean wrestled with the large dog and Liam tried riding on Salty's back. They took turns throwing a stick for the dog to fetch, and chasing after him to get it back. After awhile they sat down on the grass to catch their breath.

Liam asked, "Sean, where did Pedar go. I've nay seen him since me nap by the fire?"

"Ya don't ken, lad? He is goin' to England to do work for yer da." Sean answered.

Liam blinked his eyes trying hard not to start crying in front of the older boy.

"Nay, I did not. He did not tell me. How long will Pedar be in England?"

Sean had his back to the young boy too preoccupied with petting his dog and without thinking replied, "I think yer Uncle said it would be a year or more. He had to leave at once to pack his belongings and say good bye to some ladies."

Sean turned to see why the little boy was suddenly quiet. He did not see him and looked all around the grounds of the Sea Hookers Inn.

Liam O'Connor was gone.


	4. chapter 2 continued part 3

All characters from BTVS and ATS are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, other partners and affiliates. All other characters are my own babies. This fic is B/A in spirit.

Author's Note: Sorry it has taken so long. I had writers' block, and RL problems that kept me from writing. My Muse has been very stubborn. She insists this is going to be a long fic about Angel before he was turned by Darla. Therefore, the whole spiel about what would Liam's life had been like or did he have another destiny if he had not been turned is out the window.

So, you Angelus fans will get a little of him at the very end, because this is really all about Liam the human. I know I said this story would be paired with the BTVS story "Powder Monkey", but the time-line honestly doesn't work. I will be shortly starting another Angel fic that will be more in sync with "Powder Monkey" and in that story I will not have Liam turned but give him another fate which will be very B/A.

Chapter 2 continued

In the few minutes, that Sean had his attention off the soon to be six year old; Liam had found a place to hide and think. He needed to go find Pedar. He quickly discovered a space in the dried and stacked peat bricks large enough to hide in next to the inn. No one would have suspected that such a space existed where a child, Liam's size could comfortably hide.

Liam heard Sean call for him and run past in his search for the little boy. Salty almost revealed his hiding place. The dog stuck his wet nose in a space between two bricks letting Liam know that the dog knew where he was. He whined and barked trying to get to Liam. Sean pulled the dog away and scolded the dog for going after mice among the peat bricks.

Liam ignored them, while he sat biting his lower lip and shuddered with silent sobs. Liam's world turned upside-down by the news that Pedar was gone and would not come back for a long, long time.

Pedar had always been there for Liam. He was one of the first to hold Liam when he was born. Pedar helped take care of Liam for the first few days of his life, while his mother was too ill with the birthing sickness, his father too drunk thinking his wife was dying, and Nurse Biddy too exhausted from tending mother and baby, slept.

When Liam's mother became feverish, and the doctor stated that, her milk would sicken the baby. It was Pedar who got Liam to suck goat milk off the end of a finger. He did this for two days until the doctor found a wet nurse.

Since then, of all the adults in the lad's life, it was Pedar who watched the boy. Liam's father too involved with business, and the social expectations of his era; spent little time with the Liam and often was away. His mother tried to spend some time with her vivacious and curious son, but she suffered from poor health due too many miscarriages and well-meaning doctors, that bled her with leaches to rid her body of the bad blood. Biddy and the other servants had too much to do, to care for a boisterous little boy.

Pedar was different, he loved the boy like the little brother that he never had. No one realized, that to the small boy, young Pedar had become, over the years, Liam's surrogate father.

Pedar was the one who heard Liam's first words, had seen his first step, and held him when he cried. The young man had tended the boy's hurts, given him hugs, encouragement and listened to the child's telling of dreams and nightmares. He had taught Liam how to catch frogs, butterflies and how to hold young kittens. He showed him how to use a slingshot, the chamber pot and how to tie knots.

Liam was heartsick. He had to find Pedar and beg him not to go. At the moment, the lad felt raging anger at his father for ordering his hero to go away. Liam realized that like the times when he hid to avoid a scolding; the adults if they found him, would take him home or to his father. He would never see Pedar that way.

Liam had a trick visual memory that helped him to relive past events. Visual flashes of recent incidences made the boy cautious. He remembered that he could not out run adults that were not old or frail. Liam silently sobbed again, biting his lip so hard it bled. He so badly wanted to race down to the docks and see if Pedar was there.

More memory flashes came into the vision of his inner eye. Liam's nine-year-old twin cousins, Karina and Karoleen had inadvertently taught him patience through their constant torments and teasing. He had learned that if you waited, people gave up when they did not see the results they wanted. People would try or do something else.

He waited for the older boy to go into the house before making a run for the alley across from the inn. When Sean went into the back door, Liam ran for the street, but he saw people and knew he could not go that way or he would be seen.

He had to find another good hiding place before the adults started searching for him. Liam noticed that behind the buildings were Hawthorn bushes that for a boy his size would give him adequate cover while he made his way down to the docks. He proceeded quickly crouching down behind the bushes listening for possible shouts and the running footsteps of pursuers. He was several buildings away when he heard the distant shouting of his name.

The wild scrub led down to a small rickety footbridge that crossed the creek that flowed by the buildings making its way to the bay. The bushes and rushes hid the little structure from view of the buildings. It was so dilapidated that no one had used it for years for fear of it falling apart. Liam being small quickly ran across without risk. On the other shore was a path that meander through more brush and scraggly willows that formed such a thick cover that the small boy was easily hidden as he ran following the path thinking any minute it would lead to the docks.

Liam ran until the shouts could not be heard and his chest hurt from the exertion. He plopped down on the path, panting trying to catch his breath, and removed his shoes fearing that his blister was slowing him down. He wondered how long would Pedar be on the docks before he would go away. Liam forced himself up and trudged along the path. He rested when ever his side ached, wiping away the perspiration from too much exertion; not realizing that he was going away from town, away from the shore, up toward higher ground. He had been hiking for hours not willing to stop. The young boy eagerly expected that any moment he would burst out of the brush onto the docks and find Pedar waiting with open arms.

The six year old began to panic for he was noticing that it was getting dark and scary. The brush canopied over him forming a tunnel above the path. The path being lighter than all his surroundings, led him on and he half walked, half jogged, drenched with perspiration. He could barely see that the path was leading to an open space far ahead. His exhaustion was causing him to stumble so he now walked as quickly as he could, looking at the lighter space growing bigger and brighter.

Finally, he broke free into a grassy meadow, yelling, "PEDAR, PEDAR! WAIT FOR ME!"

Spinning around he saw nothing, but brush and willows along the edge of the meadow. The sun had set and the first stars were in the sky. Liam collapsed on to the ground and wailed. He was completely drenched with sweat and dew. A breeze wicked away the moisture cooling the heat from his exhausted small body. He shivered with the sudden cold and he did not care. Liam knew he was lost and he would never see Pedar again. He sobbed until his throat was raw and he was numb with cold and despair. The grief stricken boy wanted to die.

Liam lay still well into the night weeping. Lying on his back, he looked at the stars and asked, God, Jesus, and Mother Mary, to bring back Pedar and punish his father for sending him away. All along, the numbing cold was stealing heat from his body, while it lulled him into a troubled sleep.

Liam dreamed. He vaguely thought of the blonde girl that had been picking wild flowers. He sat up feeling better, but cold, and hungry again. He wished he still had his shoes, but after young Liam looked down the path that he had been on; it scared him because he was sure he saw many pairs of little glowing eyes staring back.

Standing, he peered down trails and paths, until to his surprise he found one that lead to a place that was fire lit. Liam reasoned if there were a fire, there would be people, thus warm blankets and food.

He cautiously walked down the trail toward the light. He heard singing or chanting as he approached. He saw a bond fire and a man wearing the head of a stag with a splendid set of antlers upon his head and nothing else. The boy then noticed that on the edges of this clearing were young men and women chanting as they removed woolen robes revealing their nudity.

The boy froze in the shadows, not venturing further. He was shocked that these adults were nude. Liam had never seen completely nude people before, especially women. At first, he thought they were daft for not having clothes on when it was cold and then realized he was warmer because of the heat from the bonfire. His shock was renewed, remembering the spankings for not being properly dressed.

The people began to dance in a circle around the man and the bonfire. He was suddenly struck by how beautiful these people were, all golden satin skin, hair like yellow flame and sparkling emerald eyes. Liam knew they must be more then human, because they looked perfect.

He saw to the right of him a woman that made him think of mother, Biddy, his Aunt Enya and other women that he thought of as mothers. She did not look older than the dancers did, yet she felt very old and wise. She was crowned with a wreath of hawthorn leaves and spring flowers. She was dressed in a lambskin robe of pure white. She smiled at him as she disrobed dropping the lambskin robe at his feet. She turned away stepping into the circle of dancers that parted to let her go to the man with the stag horns. The man held his arms open, ready to embrace her. The circle closed obstructing Liam's view of the couple in the center. The chanters quickened the tempo and grew louder.

Then, Liam picked up the lambskin robe, feeling a sudden chill. The white downy fur was the softest he had ever touched and it radiated warmth. He covered himself with the robe lying down at the edge of the clearing. He felt at peace, and it would be perfect if he had something for his thirst and hunger. He saw partially hidden by the robes to his left a wine flask, a round loaf of bread, a large wedge of cheese, with a basket of fruit. Liam crawled over to the food picking up a peach that looked so perfect and smelled so invitingly sweet. A small very strong hand grabbed his wrist preventing him from biting the fruit and knocked the peach away. It was the little blonde girl of his dream.

Liam outraged, but not wanting to let any one know he was stealing food demanded in angry whisper.

"Ya stupid girl what ya do that fer?"

"Do not eat or drink of their food or you will be theirs' forever. I will never find you if that were to happen," she hissed in a terrified whisper.

Young Liam gazed at her and was completely dumbfounded. Just as he was to vent his full rage at her, she transformed into a woman pedar's age, in strange clothes that didn't cover much with a wooden stake in her hand, then changing to a fifteen-year-old mistress in a proper dress, back to a waif of five years old. He knew it was the same person; just she was different ages all at once.

"H..how ya d..d..do…why ya ch..change…what are you?"

Young Liam stuttered.

"I have not been born yet. I am in your dream to warn not to eat of the fairy food." She stated.

"I am not dreaming, yer daft and strange! Yer a witch tryin' to hex me, just like Pedar says." He hissed in an angry whisper, backing away from her.

"Nay, Liam, you must wake or you will die." She said as she began to fade, which really scared the boy.

"A ghost! Yer a ghost come to kill me!" He yelled.

"Nay, wake up, Liam. You must wake before the dance is finished," Said a patch of glowing mist that had been the little girl.

Liam looked toward the center of the clearing. The dancers' music had taken on a frenzied pace and he notice that they did not look so beautiful, but wild and fierce. They were forming couples falling on the ground wrestling. The men looked like they were biting the mouths of the women. People were screaming and groaning and he became terrified and ran.

He ran back to the path that had brought him to this gathering. He felt all of sudden as if he was flying to the clearing where he had cried his heart out wishing to die. Right now, he did not want to die. He was scared and wanted to be home.

The boy realized his feet were not touching the ground. His heart felt like it had just leapt into his throat, he wanted to scream, but could not; he was literally flying. He flew over to a small bundle on the ground in the vacant clearing. It was himself!

His body looked so small huddle in a tight ball. His face was white and so pale with bluish lips. Liam felt as though strong invisible ropes were pulling him down toward the body, he panicked and resisted this force.

"Do not resist the pulling, you need to get back in your body and wake up" Said the disembody voice of the little girl.

"Nay, ya want me dead! I will na do what you say!" He yelled in the direction the voice had come from.

She appeared before him looking so sad as though she was about to cry.

"Nay, Liam, I love you and have always loved you. We have been too many lifetimes apart; please go back into your body so we can find each other."

The young boy looked into her eyes and believed. He did not know why, but his fear vanished. He felt and saw pure love and honesty. He knew she meant what she said and it warmed him. She truly loved him and would always. Understanding this, he realized that he had always loved her; and was deeply moved.

"I know you," He declared.

"Aye, we can not talk, now. Quickly, Liam, your body is dying" She declared as she faded into the gathering fog.

The lad felt an immediate jerk as he stopped resisting the pull. His body felt cramped and so still.

"You need to wake and breathe," said his love's voice in his head.

He was tired he did not feel he could do those things. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that if he woke, he would be painfully cold, wet, and hurting from the cuts, bruises, and aching muscles. This deep state of sleep was safe and he was numb to those discomforts of his body.

"Wake up and breathe"

"_Nay," _He thought.

"Liam, Wake!"

"Oh, Blessed Jesus, wake my son! Please, Liam breathe! Oh, God! Oh, God!"

The lad became aware that the voice he was hearing was his father's voice.

"Sir, I am sorry, but I think the lad…," Said another male voice with pity for the father.

"Nay, he is not dead, his breath fogged my blade."

Liam heard his father beg, "Son, my wee boy, please wake!"

His father was crying! His father never cried. The little boy felt alarm for how much pain his father was in. His father cared about him.

He felt guilty for how much he had hated his father for sending Pedar away. He must wake up and tell his Da he was sorry.

Liam stirred, inhaled, and went into a fit of coughing.

He opened his eyes and became aware that he was nude against his father's bare chest underneath the man's linen shirt. His father's arms were not in the sleeves, but were bare, wrapped around the small boy, while his father tried to warm his little son's shivering body. His father had two large woolen capes covering them both.

"He's awake! Tank ya, Jesus! Give him warm milk and whiskey!" Yelled, Eamon O'Connor feeling very much relieved that his boy was conscious.

Liam felt his father shift and leaned the boy slightly back so someone could press the rim of a cup to the lad's lips. Liam thinking it was the same warm, sweet, drink that he had at Maggie's Inn, took a big swallowed and sputtered. The drink was not at all sweet; it burned going down his throat and brought tears to his eyes. He went into another coughing fit.

"Easy, boyo take wee sips." Eamon said in reassuring tone.

Liam tried again, but it tasted bitter. He turned his head away from the offensive brew. The boy began to uncontrollably to shiver and his teeth chattered.

"Please, son drink some more ta chase the chill out of yer bones; it will make ya feel better."

Liam saw now that there were many men and fire in the clearing. Granny Malone walked toward them. She had a bowl of something hot.

"Master Eamon donna worry about his drinking. It may be too strong and bound to be bitter. He just needs something warm inside him. If you hold him up a little I will feed him."

"Aye, Granny Malone." Eamon, acknowledged.

Despite his shivering and chattering teeth, the widow gentle ladle small spoonfuls of broth into to Liam's mouth. The savory thick broth tasted like it was lamb stew. It was delicious and slowly warmth was seeping into his small body. While Granny fed him, his father blew warm breath on to the boy's freezing hands and gently rubbed them to get warm back into his small hands.

A donkey pulled cart came into the clearing and a man came over to speak to Master O' Connor.

"Sir, the Revenue Officer is in tis area, we may be seeing 'im soon. Are ye needing ta men to stay?"

"Nay, have the men go in plan view along the path ya think the English will be. The men are to talk amongst themselves of how we found Liam, so the soldiers will hear. If they run into a soldier they are to say the missing boy is found and be of good cheer. If they are asked, where they are headed; say home to kiss their sleeping children and warm beds, or whatever will make the soldiers feel sympathetic and accommodating toward people looking for a lost child on a cold night."

"Aye, sir" Said the man as he nodded his understanding.

"Ruan, we will need the cart to take Liam and Granny Malone home." Master O' Connor stated.

Taciturn Ruan nodded again his acknowledgment and walked over to the others.

Eamon, held Liam, as he finished the stew. Granny Malone went to Ruan, cleaning up the temporary campsite.

"Son, look at me?" Eamon in a gentle voice asked.

"Why, boy did ya run off?"

"I wanna ta see Pedar, before he left for England," Liam said in a small voice filled with guilt.

Eamon let out a heavy sigh. For the first time he regretted his avoidance of emotional scenes, where his son was concerned. He had discouraged Pedar from waking the boy while he napped at Maggie's Inn. Pedar tried to tell him that he believed the boy would be far more distraught at his not saying good bye. Hearing an emotional catch in the young man's voice, Eamon suspected there was a close attachment that he had failed to notice before. It made him feel irrationally jealous of Pedar and he immediately dismissed him.

This emotional irrationality nearly cost him his son. Eamon tried to up hold the ideal of rational and reasoned thought. His brother, Connor had asked what harm would there have been to let Pedar say good-bye. He had given the excuse that he felt he should spare everyone, including the boy a tearful and embarrassing scene. Now, he wished he had braved every tear and heart-wrenching sob.

"Och, Liam! The ship Pedar was on, had already set sail when yer Cousin Master French woke you. Why didna you ask me, boyo? He wanted to tell ya fair thee well, but you were asleep and his boat was to leave with the evening tide."

The young boy looked down; sniffing knowing his father did not like crying.

"Shh…Liam, alas I ken that ya miss the lad, but it is nay good to get attached. Pedar is a servant. Servants are in our lives because we employ them. Sometimes they leave for better position, or in the case of maids, they marry. There are situations where we let them go, when our need for them changes. "

"My need for Pedar to teach me things has nay changed" Liam cried.

Master O' Connor gave another heavy sigh as he thought of another argument to calm his son.

"He is a young man, anxious to make a better life than a footman. There is an opportunity for him to make enough of a living to get married; and start a family of his own. I thought he deserved that chance."

Liam only sobbed. His father was left with only one way to comfort the boy; that was to hold him close and rock him till the child fell asleep.

Eamon thought to himself that he could not wait for the boy to be mature enough to see life more rationally. He contented himself with the fact that the lad was getting older and eventually they would see eye to eye on all aspects of life.

Little did the man know that this was closest he would ever be to his son. If he did, he might have held his son more tightly and dare to show his feelings of how much he cared for the boy and his happiness.

My muse desperately needs reviews, if she doesn't get them she goes into a silent pout that lasts for weeks. So, people give her lots of reviews so she doesn't clam up and I can write more real soon.


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